


Mourning Dove

by Ebenaceae



Series: Requests [2]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: (but not really), Birdwatching, Depression, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, using birds as metaphors for ones life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6362455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebenaceae/pseuds/Ebenaceae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The city has stolen lives time and time again. Shane and Angelos want to reclaim what they’ve been mourning. They have each other, at least. Request from Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mourning Dove

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to preface this by saying that I’m so used to using original character-style player characters from Dragon Age and similar games that I don’t really like the self insert-style player characters, even though SV is a bit more suited for that style. Hope it isn’t much of a bother if I use named oc-types.  
> [Tumblr post here.](http://ebenaceae.tumblr.com/post/141722281971/mourning-dove/)  
> Thank you!

A click and a whirr of the gadget in Shane’s hands coming to life interrupted the near-silence of the forest. The sudden sound made Angelos, who was half-asleep, startle awake—ending up hitting his head on the tree behind him with grunt. 

The Cindersap forest proved to be the most peaceful area Angelos could find in the valley. It may have been because of the strange wizard’s potion, or it may have been because he had never seen so much green so close in his life, but the amazing amount of imposing trees and lopsided grassy hills were magnetizing. He could spend a whole afternoon foraging in the bushes and fishing in the rivers and lakes in the forest, he occasionally refused to do anything but that, which, when he looked at it, may have been an issue. 

A farmer’s life was hard enough without constantly trying to convince oneself not to nap in the cool grass in the closest meadow one could find. It seemed like there would be enough flora and fauna on his farm to satisfy him, yet even that was too much of a stressant and lead him right back to where he’d want to be most: lying at the edge of the woods, listening to the grasshoppers’ songs, and on that day, right close to the evil side of his moral judgement who convinced him to stray away from his responsibilities in the first place.

“Smile, Angie.”

Angelos sneered, wiping the bleariness from his eyes with freckled hands before moving to rub the sore spot on his skull. He sat up and glared at Shane, he attempted to look as threatening as he could while honey curls fell into his face. He looked as threatening as a mouse. 

He shook his head and reached for Shane’s camcorder, pushing it away. “Why do you even have that here? Were you filming me?” Angelos groaned. 

Shane huffed a laugh and stopped recording, opting to check the video in the small flip-screen. With a slight smirk, he gave a noncommittal shrug as an answer to both questions. 

Appropriately, as the personification of his bad morality, Shane had been the one to drag him outside. However, in no way did Angelos mind. Though the forest was beautiful in solitude, Angelos couldn’t help but savour the times he was able to relax and hangout with his friend, inebriated together or not. Those moments were even more pleasant than being in solitude… despite the moments where Shane would clearly be an ass on purpose. 

Angelos half-heartedly kicked at Shane’s leg with his boot. Shane didn’t flinch, and opted to lightly elbow him back. 

Completely back to his senses, Angelos looked at the other man curiously. “No, really, what’s with it? You’re not becoming a nature filmographer, I hope,” Angelos tsked, resting back on the tree trunk that he’d hit. 

Shane turned the camera in his hands. “I don’t know. Heh, well, I’m not doing documentaries. Unless…” Shane pressed a button on the camera that Angelos couldn’t see, quickly turning it towards him once more. “Give me that ugly look again. Try growling, this time,” Shane directed, looking at the farmer through the screen. Again, Angelos’ face contorted with false disgust. 

“I’m going to throw that into the river,” he threatened, swatting it away. 

“That’s really good. Use that anger.” Shane nodded and gave a thumbs up. Angelos hadn’t seen Shane use his camcorder much since the commercial he shot for Joja Bluu, so its resurgence was a bit unexpected—especially while they were supposed to be doing nothing.

“Oh, yeah. I’m ferocious,” Angelos rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Again,  _ why _ do you have that? Did you win the competition?”

Shane pursed his lips. “I don’t know yet. I have a good feeling, though. And… why not? Might as well savour the moment. Capture some memories?” He suggested. Angelos rose a brow.

He looked off into the distance in front of him, across the river. They could just see the wizard’s tower if they looked hard enough. However, Shane wasn’t looking at anything in particular, and rather, his lidded eyes merely stared ahead in contemplation. 

“I don’t get many days off from that  _ hell _ ,” he muttered, his typical sour mood seeping in. “Might as well spend these hours the best I can.” He scratched at his stubbled cheek. 

“You’re spending your free day out  _ here? _ ” Angelos looked at Shane incredulously, gesturing to the dirt. Shane nodded, making Angelos shake his head. “First of all, I hate that you subject yourself to that place. I hate that place in general. Passionately,” he emphasized, shuddering. “And secondly, there’s way more things you could be doing right now. Why spend the day here?”

Shane looked at him blankly. “I knew that being out here would convince you to come with me. Personally, I like it out here just fine.” 

Angelos paused. “You specifically wanted to... be with me.” 

Shane’s eyes widened for a split second before he covered it up, theatrically rolling his eyes. “You would have just found me in the bar anyway, bugging me all night. Thought I’d turn the tides, or whatever, finding you first.. I guess all your insistent prodding actually worked, huh? You annoyed me, now you’re stuck with me annoying you right back,” he finished, forcing an awkward laugh. After a beat and before Angelos could think of a response, Shane continued: “And, anyway. Nevermind about Joja. I was thinking that, when I win—which, still, I am kind of confident about,  _ surprisingly _ —I thought I’d take my nice ten grand and quit. Tell them to go stick it.” He moved his hands slightly as he talked, ending with a crude gesture as he fantasized about quitting. The bit of determination in his normally sullen expression told that he wished he could really say exactly that.

“I like the irony,” Angelos whistled appreciatively, but he was apprehensive after Shane’s defensive tone.

“Yeah, it’s great. Sure, it wouldn’t really be enough for me to live off… but it would buy me a drunken stupor until I had to find another real job, so I can’t complain.” He twisted the camera in his hands again before setting it down beside him with a sigh. “Maybe I could use it to help work with Marnie? It’d have to be with her chickens. Maybe if I could actually start doing  _ work  _ work there I wouldn’t be wasting all her space…” he trailed off, raking a hand through his dark, unkempt hair. He shed his Joja jacket and crumpled it in his hands, glaring at it. “Anything to get a life. Get out of this hole.” He unintentionally tossed the jacket haphazardly in Angelos’ direction, and the other caught it fluidly. 

Angelos looked at the ratty, blue jacket, tracing the stitched insignia with a curved finger. “Marnie is a good woman. She tells me how much she appreciates you being there to help her. I sure would.” The blond slung the tattered jacket over both of his shoulders, letting the sleeves hang. It was huge on him. He held onto it, feeling the over-washed fleece.

Shane was… something else. 

Angelos wasn’t exactly sure how to order his thoughts about his friend. He had originally seemed... unfriendable, as Angelos would put it. But he understood why, he saw how Shane felt and, in all honesty, he got it. Shane wasn’t alone. 

That notion was solidified the night he met Shane by the forest pier. Everything felt stripped bare, raw, way too familiar. The rain was ice cold and stinging as Shane retold Angelos’ own thoughts from back when he was in the city and younger, how everything in his life was going wrong and it all felt so wrong, and it brought fearful memories of the boy wondering if he’d even make it to the next day. Even then he was quiet, reserved, contemplating his existence of which he wasn’t completely sure was real. Different sides of the same coin, except eventually, not. 

How could it end up so well? He almost felt like he didn’t deserve it. Nevertheless, that night on the pier was the night that Angelos told himself that he wouldn’t let Shane feel hopeless. He had remembered, even though Shane had gotten him piss drunk, and that wasn’t even at a point where he actually liked him yet.

_ A man after my own heart, _ Shane had said.

Angelos wondered how much of that remark was true.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by the other scoffing. Angelos almost jumped again, but refrained himself, although he did clutch the jacket a bit tighter. It was a bit comforting, surprisingly. It was warm and so well-worn that it headily smelled like Shane even through the intense floral softener. 

“I mean, sure, Marnie says that, but it doesn’t feel like she means it much. It’s just taking care of her birds for free, I can’t be all that good.” 

“Why not? You know, if you really wanted a job, I have a chicken coop too,” Angelos suggested. He said it on impulse, speaking his mind as soon as the thought it, unexpected even to him. Although he’d love to see Shane happier, although he wouldn’t mind a farmhand… Angelos thought that maybe that was… too far. Too domestic for just a well-meaning job. 

Domesticity… with Shane? The implications of it filled Angelos with questions that he couldn’t possibly fathom answering, not with him right beside—

“Oh, you are hilarious.” Shane shook his head, not even noticing the split second of panic that came and went from Angelos’ face. “Yeah, alright. Dream come true, huh? If it were that simple, I’d be long gone.” 

“I mean. Everything turned out alright for me when I was offered a farming job.” 

Shane’s face grew dark, his brows furrowing.  He looked out across the lake again. “No, it didn’t. It turned out perfect. You just strolled in one day out of the blue, and made a living just fine. Just… perfectly.” Shane almost grimaced, but he instead tried to contort himself to look more neutral. “You don’t know how much I hated that.”

“From the way you treated me, I’m not surprised,” Angelos commented wryly. 

“No. Honestly? I was trying my best not to be angry at you. I was  _ furious  _ that you settled in so nicely. You got everything you ever wanted. I’ve never had anything, or anybody, and it’s so—it’s so hard, Angie.” Similar, not the same. In the fear that the other would become upset, he didn’t dare pry. At least he still used that stupid nickname, an indication that he was still open to conversation, thankfully. 

He reached out and grasped Shane’s shoulder, rubbing it before pulling away. The touch made him jittery, and although he knew what he wanted to say, he wasn’t sure how to say it as he pulled away. “Shane, I, I just want to say that you’ll never be al—”

Shane’s expression immediately perked up, focusing on space  _ behind  _ Angelos. This made Angelos lose his train of thought, stumbling in his words, and he gave up completely as Shane muttered a  _ hold onto that thought _ , jumped to his knees, reached for his camcorder, and then shot up to his full height. 

Angelos collapsed into his hands and groaned. His stomach was swooping. Hard. 

His malcontent was unnoticed, however, as Shane had stepped not to far the other way, rigidly standing tall and pointing his camera upwards. Regaining his figurative footing, Angelos peeked above his palms and watched Shane film… whatever. While watching, he slipped his arms through the jacket so it didn’t slip off. 

A rustle came from the trees and Shane turned and moved fluidly as a pair of scarlet streaks beat over their heads from the forest and above the lake, hovering before dipping into the trees of one of the small islands littering the water mass. 

“ _ Wow. _ ” Shane was grinning, elated, and it was a welcome sight. He set down his arms and slowly walked back to their spot on the grass, but he didn’t sit down as he occupied with checking the screen. 

“I don’t suppose you’d care to explain that,” Angelos drawled. 

Shane scratched the back of his neck. “Have you ever seen a cardinal up close? They look amazing,” he asked, still distracted, still elated.

Despite his elation, Angelos shot him a hard look. “You took me out for birdwatching!” 

Shane winced, breaking away from the camera. “Okay… no. No I didn’t, jerk,” he sniffed. “It’s just…. Marnie likes them. A lot. Aside from her farm animals, she said they’re her favourite.” Shane looked at Angelos with a small smile, though he was obviously refraining from grinning. “Her birthday is going to come up, and I was just thinking… maybe if I had a nice gift for her… people like homemade gifts. It’s effort. There’s obviously care in them. I feel if I could do something like that… who knows.”

“So you really are playing nature filmographer.” Angelos retorted with a smirk. 

“Laugh all you want. It’s the thought that counts. I guess.” He looked back down at the camera and pressed a button a few times in quick succession. Looking satisfied, he reached down and offered the object to the farmer. “Here, look at these.”

Angelos took the camera and peered onto the screen as Shane finally came to sit beside him. Pressing play, he noticed that it was an older video. Brilliant red wings beat on-screen and it sang in short, rapid beats. Angelos watched fondly. It was actually a nice video. He tapped for the next, and a pair of grey birds sat close on what looked to be Marnie’s field fence in early morning light.

“Jas likes those, I thought it’d be a nice shot,” he explained. He smiled at the video, the one he took for his goddaughter. “Oh, also, most of these are before I go to work. Not exactly the best,” Shane commented. To Angelos’ surprise, Shane moved closer to him, leaning in to see. Their shoulders brushed electrically before settling against each other, and Shane’s head was so close, if Angelos shifted ever so slightly, it could be rested on with his own. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so discomforted that Shane brought him to birdwatch. Nature was beautiful, after all. Among other things.

“Well, actually…” Angelos changed to a new video. “They’re good. This is really nice stuff. Maybe you could make a living off of this,” he suggested. He didn’t quite like the suggestion, as it implied Shane would move on, but he found it prudent to say. 

However, Shane shrugged, which ended up with him against Angelos even more. “No. I don’t think that’d be right for me. Unprofessional videos online is the extent I’d do, but… I’d much rather stick to chicken farming.” He paused, then sighed. “I mean. If I even start to start  _ that. _ ”

Angelos pressed the next button again. His brows rose as he saw himself. He didn’t press play, but he knew it was from earlier, when Shane startled him awake. 

Angelos looked at himself in the thumbnail: his pallid skin was mostly covered by large spots of melanin and freckles littering his face in the thumbnail—though in reality, it was the same all over his body—not merely a dusting, but dotted to the point of unsightliness, in his opinion, unattractiveness. His curls were messy and had grown far longer than what it had been when he first arrived, he let his hair grow as a sort of sign of rebellion. His lips were parted. He looked like an idiot. Observing the picture on the screen, the real Angelos grimaced, but stared silently.

“I really like that one,” Shane said unexpectedly. It had been warm, soft and private, as if Angelos wasn’t supposed to be in the range of hearing, even though Shane pressed against him. 

“Eugh, no. No, you don’t. That’s a vulture,” Angelos grumbled, just as lowly. He flipped the screen closed, setting the camera down. 

“Hey,” Shane started, sitting up. Angelos mourned the loss of their touch. “You aren’t supposed to be the self-deprecating one. That role is already filled.” He gave Angelos a tight, pained smile. It twisted Angelos’ gut. 

“Shane…” he forced to train his slim, sharp eyes on Shane’s dark and exhausted ones. He felt at a loss. 

“It’s alright.” 

“I feel like I should be doing something,” he muttered, ducking his head, breaking the eye contact. 

“If I can’t help myself, then I don’t think anybody can. Well. Actually, maybe any sort of bar tender can.” Shane’s words and tone made Angelos feel guilty. He was supposed to be close to Shane, to be supportive. He needed to be, but he could only do so little. There was a moment of silence between them as they both lost themselves in their thoughts. 

“I said those videos were good, but I really like them, actually,” Angelos tried, “beautiful, even. I actually do think that maybe you could do something with that.” At least he tried to say something. 

“I can make small gifts with it. Not much else,” he said, waving the notion off. “But… I don’t know. I think Jas likes them, at least. Those birds that come in the morning always get a stir out of her.” He gave a breathy laugh. “If it weren’t for her, I probably wouldn’t be here, actually. I wasn’t able to support both Jas and I in the city when I got custody of her.” Angelos had heard as much from his goddaughter herself, but he nodded anyway. He understood that it was a hard subject to talk about. 

“I’ve never seen those birds in the city before. I don’t suppose Jas really would have liked it that much,” Angelos proposed. 

Shane nodded. “Yeah. Probably. Those birds are called mourning doves, by the way. City slicker,” He teased. 

“Whatever. They look like pigeons,” Angelos sniffed haughtily.  

Shane smirked. “Well, uh, they kind of are. Doves are related to pigeons, stupid. It’s common knowledge.” 

Angelos’ face fell. “No it’s not,” he protested. 

“Yes, it is,” Shane shot back. “I guess it’s kind of weird to think about, though. Pigeons are supposed to be ugly, but doves are supposed to be beautiful. But then, there’s like… mourning doves. An ugly dove.” His face twisted slightly, and he visibly swallowed. “Even though it goes against who they are, what they’ve gone through, what they’re made of… people still think they’re just pigeons. They get tossed around, chewed up, and forgotten. It’s… it’s really…” 

Angelos stared at him not in disbelief, but awe.  _ It’s a metaphor,  _ screamed Angelos in his head. 

“It’s a good thing you and Jas are there to really appreciate them,” Angelos said tentatively, voice gone soft, as he put a hand on Shane’s knee. “I think I’d like to learn to do the same.”

Shane looked down at the spotted hand in bewilderment before gazing up at Angelos again, his expression reverting back to a small, sad-looking smile. “I guess you’re right. And… I’m glad.” He moved into the touch.

Angelos nodded, flickering his pale-coloured eyes down a moment, but his attention came back with a determined grin. “You really get excited about birds, huh? You know way more than I do. You are… You’re kind of adorable when you’re excited, actually.”

Shane snorted, reeling back. “For one thing, no, I only like chickens. Reading Marnie’s bird species books has nothing to do with liking them, and more with me not having anything better to do with my life in between drunken hazes.” Shane began to wave his hand again, animating him. “And, also, don’t call me adorable. I’m not.” 

“I disagree. You’re excited. It’s so charming. Cute.  _ Adorable _ ,” Angelos grin widened as he teased, creases forming near his eyes. “I wish you were like this more.” 

Shane suddenly looked crestfallen. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re… probably not alone. I just have... nothing. I have nothing to be excited  _ about _ , is the problem. But otherwise…” 

It was times like those, times when Angelos’ best friend would be just talking about his hardships and depression so  _ casually,  _ that made the farmer feel the deep and unsettling guilt and sadness along with the twisted anger that tightened around his lungs. It reminded him of why and how he left his empty life, seeking out absolutely anything in Stardew Valley that would fulfil him. Only recently did he think he figured out what it was.

But ultimately, he was lucky. He had a second chance. Shane supposedly didn’t.

“That’s enough, Shane,” he snarled, angry with his own thoughts. He pushed himself off the tree he rested on, facing Shane on his knees, who looked at him with warranted shock. 

He leaned in. “I’m really sick and tired of you being treated like that, getting… getting tossed around, chewed up, whatever. The city is miles, _miles_ behind us—and I get it! Joja literally made me want to die, and you got mixed up in a whirlwind of death. So—”

“What the hell, Angelos?” Shane snapped. 

“I’m trying to defend you! Listen to me! We were literally being killed by all of it. So we left it!  _ Left it.  _ You don’t deserve to be stuck exactly where you were before.”

“We don’t all exactly inherit a fortune in property, Angelos,” Shane spat. “And, again, it’s not like I’d be here if it weren’t for Jas. You know, it’s kind of hard to leave my dead friends behind me when they stare me in the face every day,” he glowered.

“That’s not what I meant,” Angelos pleaded, suddenly terrified.   

In the name of Yoba, Angelos swore to giving his all to Shane—he loved him. Whether he would force himself to suppress it into a platonic love or not didn’t matter. Either way, as long as Shane would allow him, he’d find someway and something to make Shane realize that life was worth living. 

“Can we please just ignore my life for a second? I can’t talk about it right now,” Shane muttered, squeezing his eyes shut and running his hands through his hair. 

“Shane, please,” Angelos entreated. His throat felt raw, even though he’d barely spoken. “You don’t deserve this. You can’t live like this.”

“I don’t have any other way to live,” Shane retorted, bewildered and frustrated. “I don’t have anywhere else to go, anything else to do, I don’t have anyone else in general…”

“Me!” Angelos exclaimed, maybe a little too loudly. He scrambled closer, almost ending on top of Shane’s leg. “You have me, Shane, I…” he furrowed his brow and jabbed Shane in the shoulder. “I’m offering you a job, right here, right now. I was serious about giving you a job earlier, and I am now, too. But a lot more. I’d give you anything you wanted,” he admitted. 

“I don’t think you could,” Shane said grimly. 

His heart skipped a beat, and it was painful. “I’d do anything to try, Shane,” he said, shaking his head. It looked like they had both calmed from their irritations, but they both still felt tense. Nevertheless, Angelos inched closer. 

After a moment, Shane looked up at him in earnest. “Why do you want me?” 

Shane’s question was a double-entendre that felt like getting kicked and winded. Angelos had to remind himself to work his lungs. 

“I want to give you everything I can,” he repeated, gaze growing soft. “You are… a great worker. You’re passionate. Helping Jas, helping Marnie… whatever you put your heart into, it’s amazing.” He was in too deep to pull back, even if he wanted to. “A great  _ person.  _ Seeing you getting reduced to nothing is horrifying to me, because… I… I like being around you, and you’re funny, but so real, and my chest feels on fire whenever I can make you smile… just being able to drink with you at the end of the day makes me elated. You’re my best friend, and…” he trailed off.

Shane slowly reeled back, but made no effort to move. His head found rest against the coarse bark of a tree behind him, and from there, he took a moment to study Angelos’ face. His eyes became slightly lidded, by Angelos wasn’t sure if it was a sign of relaxation. The way Shane’s lashes covered his eyes made them look dark and poignant. 

“‘Best friend’, he says,” he murmured gruffly. “I don’t like people, I don’t know a lot about them. But if you asked me, that didn’t sound much like just a  _ best friend-ly  _ confession.” Angelos thought Shane might have picked up on that, and for the most part, he was glad he did. What surprised him, however, was that when Shane leaned up again, he silently grasped at his bony wrist, catching the fabric of the Joja jacket, resting his fingers barely against his hand—would he move it down? Was he just as unsure? The feeling of the rough pads of the fingers were electric, such an unfamiliar feeling that suddenly made Angelos need to be touched by them more, even though he was barely keeping himself from shaking. 

“You never actually let me finish,” he managed, barely a crack in his voice. “I was going to say, best friend, and more.” He swallowed his pride thickly. He had already made peace that whatever happened, happened, even though anything he said could ruin anything they had between them. Angelos decided to try his luck. “After all, why wouldn’t I want a… big and strong and, um, handsome man on my farm?” He hummed, lidding his eyes as well. “Someone to share my space with, that’s not all that bad... sharing my wine, sharing my night. It all sounds pretty tempting to me.” If he had involuntarily bitten his lip, neither of them commented on it.

“And what would an angel know about temptation, Angelos?” Shane asked heedily, firming his grip on the farmer’s wrist and dragging him forward. 

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “don’t know any.” 

The slight imbalance caused by Shane’s pull was enough motive for Angelos to shift, pulling himself up and ending with him straddling Shane’s thigh, his abdomen touching slightly against Shane’s chest. Back straight, his head held higher than Shane’s and blocked the sun, casting both their faces in shadow. Shane’s breath hitched as he looked up.

Simultaneously, Angelos’ hands found purchase on the bark on either side of Shane’s head, letting him lean forward, while Shane found the farmer’s hips under the jacket, settling his grip on them, unwavering. 

In a surge of confidence, the blond practically lept forward, forcing their lips together. He had half missed his mark, but when he pulled back to rectify it, Shane’s breath shuddered and leaned up to capture Angelos’ lips for himself, a welcome indication of his willingness. 

Shane laid back on the tree while Angelos basically laid on him, the two enraptured in each other. Angelos was impatient, heated breath felt cool against his burning, wet lips, gone soft and reddening more with each hard press of a kiss. 

While Shane was large and solid and broad, Angelos was much his opposite: wiry and thin and small. He never imagined how it would feel to be pressed against Shane—his skin was pliable, it gave easily under Angelos’ touch as his hands moved down to grip him as well, but it was warm and inviting and so he persisted—nor did he ever imagine what it would be like for Shane’s fingers to creep under his shirt and along his waistline, cold and a stark contrast against the boiling heat of his skin. 

He hoped Shane  _ had  _ imagined him, however, imagined them curled together under the shade of the trees, he hoped that Shane had imagined him cupping his stubbled jaw while both being smothered—a bit awkwardly, but heatedly—by each other, captivated by the moment, the floodgates of tension between them set loose. 

Shane suddenly raked his fingers down Angelos’ sides, making him jolt back and gasp. Momentarily free, closed his eyes and raked back his hair and breathed deeply, reclaiming his stolen breath. His freckled face had gone red with a slight sheen to it, as did his lips, now swollen. 

“Angie,” Shane groaned throatily. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. He was attempting to rid himself of the suddenly hot jacket, discarding it somewhere beside him.

However, his eyes fluttered open when he heard a mechanical click and a whirr—when realization hit him, he snapped his head up, horrified. 

“Smile,” Shane grinned. Frozen, Angelos was staring down the lens of his camcorder. Again.

His initial shock twisted into a look that could kill, even though he was still horrified about what he must have looked like. Still staring into the camera, Angelos cleared his throat and spoke as clearly as he could. “I am going to take that camera, smash it against a tree, and throw it into the river as hard as I can,” he concluded, edging closer all the while. Shane was laughing just barely loud enough to hear. He expertly dodged Angelos’ swipe at the camera, sweeping it out of reach and grasping at Angelos’ offending hand with his own. Angelos’ shoulders relaxed when Shane intertwined their fingers. 

“Help me up instead of destroying my art,” he said. 

“Art, he calls it,” the farmer repeated in a false angry tone, standing up. He grunted as he helped pull Shane up with him. Shane wasn’t too much taller than him, but he still felt nervous as Shane looked down while smiling at him. If you could call the fluttering in his stomach nerves. 

“I’m sorry,” he laughed, clearly not sorry at all, “I needed to capture the moment. You looked…”

“If you don’t finish that sentence with ‘drop dead gorgeous’, I think I’m going to have to leave you here,” he chided, leaning into his space. 

Shane shook his head. “Drop dead gorgeous it is, then.” Shane squeezed his hand and ducked to press a kiss to Angelos’ cheek, far more chaste than anything that had happened before. 

“So, about that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I didn’t really expect that, to be honest,” Shane admitted.

“I was kind of hoping that it would happen eventually,” he said in a sigh. 

“Ambitious, aren’t you,” Shane commented idly. The corners of his mouth twitched down. “If I had known… I might not have… I might’ve tried not to be so…”

“No, it’s alright.”

“Is it, though?” Shane asked. “Ugh, I was being awful, wasn’t I. And..., I want to be with you. More than what would be smart, probably. I’ll work with you, if you really wanted.”

“That’s fantastic,” Angelos said in awe, suddenly ecstatic. 

“I’m just… what if something goes wrong? I do something stupid, like always, and have to leave, like always. I—”

“That won’t happen,” the farmer interrupted, shushing him with a hand squeeze. “I’ll be there if anything actually does go awry. Which it won’t. Not while working, and not between  _ us, _ ” he said suredly. “But, most of all, what I think should happen is that we should really, really forget the what-ifs and whatever for now. Just come with me,” he emphasized with a small tug. 

“Where?”

“My place, preferably,” he shrugged. “I have a confession. I mentioned sharing my wine earlier because honestly, I have way, way too much. I can’t think of a better person to come help me rectify such an… issue,” he stated with a smirk.

“Tempting, tempting.” Shane hummed. He let go of Angelos’ hand and instead cupped his cheek, kissing him on the lips once more. Angelos couldn’t help but laugh at the tickle of Shane’s stubble. “Let’s see what we can do about your problem, then,” he teased. Angelos quite liked the prospect of  _ we.  _

Shane flung his free arm over the other’s shoulders and they started walking, following the river towards civilization, only leaving the old Joja jacket in their wake.

**Author's Note:**

> There are mourning doves where I live in the summer. Their songs are beautiful, I always miss them when they take their winter leave. Oh, and a less serious note, I had Toucha, Toucha, Touch Me stuck in my head while writing this, so take that as you will.  
> Come say hi! [I'm Ebenaceae on tumblr.](http://ebenaceae.tumblr.com/)


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